I'm a basket case,
with nothing more to eat, but just the chip on my shoulder
I feared never making it close to twenty one,
to now my biggest fear of getting anymore older
I live on borrowed time,
asking the many second favours from the clock on the wall
And to have myself to chin up,
counting all the hairs on it; feeling insecure when I count them all.

I'm no role model,
but know the act of a fool, smiling through their pain
At the awkward age,
of not being young or old enough to fit in adulthood's frame
But through the window of my eyes
you see I'm made of glass through hurt of my window pane
I had a brush with death,
but quickly swept the fear of dying under the rug of tomorrow
As if I live for all of today,
yesterday's always feel much simpler, knowing what to follow

I'm no leader,
when I feel battered on my social battery made out of led
I'm a foe to myself,
overthinking most times, as anxiety tends to be a friend.
I'm a double entendre,
humorous as an awkward smile much brighter in the dark
I'm an oxymoron,
double checking every meaning to anything closest to my heart

              I'm a calm demeanor, with a messy mind,
                 tidying my words before speaking something foul
                       at most, more of a human's human inside
                             born of the birds and the bees,
                          flying high in my dreams, as my mind is fowl.